Join us for another spirit-soaked adventure in that wacky, wacky world that is the mind of Mr. Christopher Elford.
(A man sits down at the end of a bar and orders a pint. From the other end of the bar, he notices a woman looking at him. Could she be checking him out?)
Do not play games with my heart,
From all the way across the bar.
For the heart is a wandering fiend,
And you’re the prettiest girl that I e’er seend.
(He orders another pint and a shot of Jameson.)
Methinks that thou art so cruel,
For thou dostest makest me drool,
As I sip on my pint of this lager,
And you drink down your mead or your grogger.
(Abandoning beer, he orders a double whiskey on the rocks)
Me maiden, say it ain’t so!
That ye throwest my heart to and fro!
For bumbling foolest I amest,
When your heavernly look dost me damnest.
(Sensing he should slow down, he asks for a glass of house red wine.)
Tickerling my eyeballs, this smoke
Cannet hide your liking this bloke
Who’s reallerly liking his chances
(Givern your candird advances)
(Feeling bold and ready to make his move, he orders a shot of absinthe and a Rumplemintz to freshen his breath.)
I’m just a drinkerling slurper,
All tippled on ginger and bourbnor,
Ready to ensnare my doe,–
FFFFiddlesticks! Where did she go?
Author’s note: Obviously the misspellings are on purpose, unless you discern that I’ve misspelled a misspelling, in which case, you are drunk.